


Of Blue Stones and Bushes

by WildwingSuz



Series: Skinner POV Stories [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwingSuz/pseuds/WildwingSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skinner gets drunk at a wedding reception and sees more of his favorite agents than he meant to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Blue Stones and Bushes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel, of sorts, to my story “Starbuck's on Sunday Morning”. You don't have to read it first, but this one might make a little more sense. I enjoyed writing for Skinner's POV so much that I just had to do it again.
> 
> Spoiler: Between “all things” and “Brand X”

Of Blue Stones and Bushes  
by Suzanne L. Feld  
Rated R

It was a relief to find them, because out of the dozens of people crowding the big room I knew maybe ten. And with my date canceling on me too late to find another, I was delegated to the unenviable and unbelievably boring role of Single Man at a Wedding. I headed for my two best agents without a second thought.

“Skinner! Glad to see you,” Mulder greets me with a strong handshake, and I make a brief mental note that his other hand is on the small of Scully's back. She smiles up at me as a greeting, then turns her eyes back to her date. No matter what they may want others to think, this is clearly and openly a date between these two partners. Of course I'm not surprised, as having seen them in Starbucks a few weeks back told me all I needed to know. This looks to be their coming-out, such as it is.

“Agents Mulder, Scully. You're both looking nice tonight.”

“So are you,” she replies, smiling up at me. 

“Thanks.” I finger my bow tie, still uncomfortable in the rented monkey suit. But the invitation had specified formal, and formal we all were. In fact the main reason I was here was because I'd already rented the tux when my date cancelled, and I tell them so.

Just then someone calls for a toast, and we all turn towards the podium.

I have to cut my eyes away from Scully before I stare past the point of politeness, but it's not easy. She's got her hair put up with little curls falling down around her face, and her makeup is subtle yet makes her look ethereal. And that floor-length formal dress on her hourglass figure—it was of a shimmery, clingy blue material shot through with silver threads and while it covered her shoulders with brief, puffy little sleeves, it was cut low enough that I was afraid a sneeze would pop her right out of it. She wore a silver necklace with a large blue stone that nestled right in the crease at the top of her cleavage, and it was impossible not to notice. There were matching earrings and a bracelet, large rectangular blue stones surrounded by what look to be real diamonds. Antiques, if I wasn't mistaken, and I wondered where she got them from. Regardless, she is absolutely stunning.

“Before you even ask, they're Mulder's,” Scully says, touching her right ear and then the large stone between her breasts. “Everyone's been staring at them tonight, and I didn't even wear all the pieces in the set.” She turned to give Mulder a knowing look, and he just grinned back down at her. I can't even begin to guess what passed between them regarding this jewelry.

“My grandmother's,” he corrects. “Heirlooms passed down in the family. Probably haven't been worn since the nineteen-sixties before this. About time.”

“Are those real sapphires?” I ask, almost hesitantly. If so, they've got to be worth millions.

“Blue topaz,” he says. “But the bezels are real diamonds.”

Thousands, not millions, but still very expensive. I'm no gem expert, but I do like museums and I've seen a lot of fancy and expensive stones in them.

“And I'm nervous wearing them,” Scully says, glancing up at him again. “I'd feel better if I were packing, but there's nowhere to put a gun in this dress.”

I refrain from saying anything since whatever I say will probably incriminate me and by the look on Mulder's face I'm sure he's thinking along the same lines. 

Another toast is called, and we all raise our glasses and sip. 

“Did you say your date cancelled?” Mulder asks as we turn back to each other. “You're not here stag, are you?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” I admit. “Adele's babysitter cancelled at the last minute. I'm probably not staying much longer.”

“Yeah, I haven't seen Taylor in months before this, although it was nice of him to invite us to his wedding,” Mulder says. We had all been on a task force together last year, which got pretty intense, and it was a combination of Mulder's profile and Jim Taylor's stubborn determination in doing most of the legwork that had caught the child-murdering bastard. I knew they'd gotten to know each other pretty well during those weeks, but even so I was surprised to see Mulder here. I knew he'd been invited to other social outings, but this was the first I'd seen him at. I highly suspected that Scully's being his date had a lot to do with his presence here.

Just then one of the few other FBI agents wandering through the reception hall came over to us, and while I was talking to him Mulder and Scully slipped away. I watched them go and noted how people stared at Scully, but I don't think it was just the stunning antique jewelry. I think it was her, glowing with love for the man beside her which made her nearly iridescent. 

I'm barely paying attention to what McFadden is telling me as I watch her walk away. I remember the first time I saw her, at her first assignment briefing; such a soft-looking but tough and determined young woman. I took one look in her eyes and knew that she wasn't someone to underestimate. She was the type who most men—and even some women—take at face value based on her looks and learn the hard way just how tough she really was. Now, seven-some-odd years later, she's grown into the promise of that youthful prettiness and is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. And on Mulder's arm she is absolutely stunning; his looks really compliment hers. I think they're the best-looking couple I've ever seen in person, not counting Hollywood stars.

I talk with McFadden for a while, then wander back to the bar for another drink or three. I'm not driving, and decide to indulge a little more freely than I normally do. Why not? I've got no one waiting at home and nothing else to do this weekend. 

Next thing I know, I'm chatting nonstop with a tall blonde woman in a strapless pink dress who looks vaguely familiar. When we finally get around to making introductions, I find that she's one of the bridesmaids who is also at the wedding alone. Somehow we end up outside the hall—I've now realized that I'm quite drunk enough and have stopped drinking, instead carrying a glass of plain club soda—and I put my arm around her bare shoulders as we walk along the garden paths outside the country club where the reception is being held.

When we first arrived, an announcement was made regarding the gardens surrounding the country club. Apparently they're extensive enough that people have gotten good and lost in them, so we were warned to wander out of sight of the building at our own risk. Keeping this in mind, I find a nice little cul-de-sac with a nearly invisible entrance where I can still see the lights of the building yet we're completely alone. There's a stone bench with soft cushions surrounded by high bushes, with only dim light filtering through them. If ever there was a place for a tryst, this is it. I reach for her, she reaches for me, and we sink down on the bench together.

But there was one small problem. My stomach was feeling queasier by the moment, and it's difficult to enjoy the woman in my arms when I'm beginning to suspect I might vomit soon. She doesn't seem quite as enthusiastic as she was at first, either. I stop kissing her and lean back a bit to see that her face is pale and, as far as I can tell in the dim light, a bit green. “I... don't feel too.. .well,” she says slowly, then hiccups. “I'm really sorry, I forget your name, but... I think I need to go back inside.”

I was in no condition to argue with her. I stood and reached down to help her up, but she stumbled away towards the building by herself and though I wanted to go after her, I realized that I had no time to do anything but go further into the bushes before the last hour's drinks came right back up. I stepped between two of the tall bushes behind the bench to find myself in a patch of some type of ground cover, and stumble through it for a step or two before falling to my hands and knees and letting my stomach empty itself. I look up to discover that I'm in a narrow area with tall bushes both in front and behind me, the other two sides narrowing to a point where the pathways probably went through, roughly football-shaped. This is far more private and away from prying eyes than the cul-de-sac, but I barely think that before I'm vomiting again.

I immediately feel better despite the horrid taste in my mouth. I'd left my nearly full glass of club soda in the cul-de-sac where we'd stopped so briefly, and I headed back there. It wasn't difficult to find my way back as I'd crushed and bruised the ground cover—some kind of ivy, I thought—leaving a clear trail. I found the glass at the base of the cement bench, but I'd barely sipped from it before I realized I was about to vomit again. This time I took the glass with me, and managed to stay on my feet instead of falling into the greenery as I upchucked. 

But as I moved back towards the cul-de-sac, I heard voices and quickly hunched down, then lost my balance and sat in the ground cover. Although I was wearing a black tux, I was afraid that the white shirt was visible through the bushes. And I did not want anyone, especially the agents I worked with, to see me like this—reeking of booze and vomit, tux rumpled, green stains on the knees and, now, ass. I wondered if it might be the blonde I'd come out here with as I could hear the clear tap of a women's heels on the concrete path, but then I heard a man's deeper voice along with a woman's. I wanted to scramble to my feet and get out of here, but I was afraid to go between the bushes which led away from the building in case I got lost. That would be just what I needed to cap off this less-than-wonderful night.

So I stayed put, sitting in the ivy between the two tall stands of bushes with my glass of club soda to sip, which was helping to settle my stomach and clean out my mouth. I hoped that whomever was heading this way either went right on past or, if they stopped in the cul-de-sac I'd found, that they didn't stay long.

As they got closer I could hear snippets of conversation, but as they turned into the area with the bench I immediately recognized that deep blue dress: Scully. And with her, of course, was Mulder. I almost groaned out loud. From where I was sitting I could see through the bushes into the cul-de-sac; there was just enough light for me to be able to make out just about everything. I quickly pulled my jacket closed so the white shirt wouldn't face them; hopefully the starlight shining on my bald head wouldn't be visible either.

“This looks nice; I really need some air,” Scully said, appearing around the bushes and walking to the bench. “Do you think we can politely bow out by now?”

Mulder sat down next to her, curling an arm around her shoulders, holding a champagne flute in the other hand which he set on the ground at the end of the bench. “I suppose so, but don't you want to try to catch the bouquet?” he said with teasing clear in his voice. 

I couldn't make out their faces well from here, but her sigh was audible on the clear night air. “Does it matter? Even if I did, we both know we can't get married anytime soon.”

Anytime soon?!

“I'd feel better about that if you'd just wear the damn ring,” he said, sounding serious and a bit annoyed. 

Ring?!

“That's almost the same as being married, Mulder. I start wearing an engagement ring--especially that huge gorgeous antique one—and everyone's going to know.”

Engagement ring?! That meant he must have popped the question! Good for you, Mulder!

“So that's wrong with that?” he said with clear impatience, removing his arm from around her and turning on the backless bench to face her, which meant he was three-quarters facing me. Now I could see his face better and he was frowning. “We are together, Scully, and I want to make it permanent, legal, whatever you call it. I've waited too damn long for you to let anything, not Cancerman or the alien invasion or even the possibility of finding Samantha alive, to get in the way. You're the most important thing in my life and I want to show that to the world.” 

I was afraid that this would develop into a long complicated argument, but I should have known that Scully knew how to handle him by now. She leaned forward and took his face between her hands and kissed him, then said, “I feel the same way, Mulder. But you know damn well that our enemies will use this against us, and they don't need any more fuel. Unless you're ready to give up the X-Files and maybe even being an agent, we need to keep our relationship a bit more low-key.”

He snorted, but put his hands on her waist as she moved hers to his shoulders. “I'm sure everyone in the Hoover Building knows we're together, and it doesn't seem like anyone cares. What the hell, they probably think we've been banging each other down there for years now.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound on the dark cool air. “Probably, from some of the comments I've heard and looks I've gotten—but it's always been with a tinge of jealousy from the woman, Mulder.”

He lifted a hand and ran it down her arm below the puffy sleeve, and took her left hand and held it up. “You're not sidetracking me, G-woman. Listen, if I bought you a smaller ring would you wear it? Just something to put on that finger so you're marked as taken until you feel comfortable with the big one?”

I couldn't see her face as well as his, but by the way her cheek curved I thought she was smiling. “Okay, okay, you're like a terrier with a bone. Fine, get something a little less startling than the blue ring and I'll wear it. And when we're more comfortable with being open I'll wear the blue one.”

“It sure would have gone nice with the rest of the set if you'd worn it tonight,” he said, releasing her hand and lifting the large blue stone out of her cleavage with the other, his fingers lingering just a bit before picking the stone up. “You look so lovely, Scully, I'm sure my grandmother would be proud to see you wearing her jewelry.”

They embraced, kissing, and I looked away, hoping that now they'd leave. 

I didn't hear anything for a while and finally looked back up, hoping they were gone though I hadn't heard the tap of her heels on the concrete path. To my shock, Scully was sitting sideways in his lap with her long silky dress hiked up over her knees, one of Mulder's arms disappearing beneath it. They were still kissing, but in a way that made my face grown warm; long, slow, deep, languid kisses. She had both arms around his shoulders and I couldn't see his other hand, but my eyes were drawn back to the sight of her bare legs from the knees down. Slender, not long but well-shaped, ending in a pair of small feet encased in strappy, high-heeled dress sandals that dangled a few inches off the ground. I had to look away again, staring down at my half-empty glass until my face cooled.

At one time, before I became aware of the bond between she and Mulder, I had entertained thoughts about Scully and was still drawn to her. Not only did I find her stunningly attractive, she was probably the smartest woman I'd ever known and it was as much her personality as her looks that made me want her. Had it been anyone but Mulder I've have tried for her, though as her boss it would have been a delicate situation and I probably would have had her transferred away from my unit before ever taking any action. But even now—especially now—seeing the clear emotion between them, not just physical attraction, I was very glad I hadn't interfered. I had watched them come together over the years and though I'd had reservations upon occasion, I couldn't help but be glad for them seeing how blissfully happy they were together. 

I snuck another glance and felt my jaw drop.

Mulder was sitting sideways on the bench, one leg on each side almost facing me. Scully was in his lap facing him, her dress now hiked up far enough that I could see midway up her thighs but nothing else, her bare legs wrapped around his hips, and the way they were moving left absolutely no doubt as to exactly what they were doing. Silently, without a sound, arms tight around each other, their mouths glued together.

Had I not been so damn drunk, I probably would have looked away again. Actually I had sobered up a little, but am sure I wasn't in my right mind to have watched from that point on. I certainly didn't mean to, I'd never done anything like that before or even been interested in voyeurism, but it was more than the sex. These were two people so deeply in love that it showed in their every gesture and movement, in the way they touched and kissed each other, and really was more touching than erotic.

They weren't moving fast, apparently not worried about someone stumbling across them, but then I had thought this a pretty good spot for a tryst too. Watching how her hands ran through Mulder's short hair as she kissed him, and how he grasped her hips to help move her on him, I felt my heart just melt. This wasn't fucking or boning or screwing, this was making love in the purest sense. They were so lost in each other at this point that they probably wouldn't notice if an elephant ran over them, although I wasn't about to make any noise and test that. 

His mouth left hers and he looked into her eyes, one hand moving to caress the side of her face before going back to grasp her hips. I saw his lips move, but couldn't hear what he whispered to her though I was pretty sure I knew what it was when she replied in kind, gazing back at him. He kissed along her bare arm to the inner bend of her elbow, paused for a moment, then worked his way back up until he detoured to her neck and kissed up it to her ear. Scully had thrown her head back, mouth open and eyes closed, and was holding herself to him with both arms around his neck, her half-naked breasts brushing his front with every stroke. 

They still had not made a sound.

As he reached her ear, Scully brought her head down and turned to his mouth, their lips meeting once again. Now their pace began to speed up, Mulder all but lifting and slamming her back down on him, their lower bodies thankfully hidden by her voluptuous dress. I realized that I could hear their heavy breathing, which was increasing as well, and she dropped her head to his shoulder where it looked like she was muffling her mouth against his jacket. Mulder buried his face in her neck, and all I heard were twin exhalations before they froze, straining against each other, then gradually relaxed, Scully slumping bonelessly against him.

I watched as Scully moved back, adjusted something under her dress that I couldn't see, then put both legs on the same side of the bench and smoothed the silky, silver-shot fabric down to her feet. It was then that I saw that Mulder had simply unzipped his pants without pushing them down, and I was relieved to see nothing more than him pulling his zipper up then buttoning his tux jacket down the front. They were smiling at each other the whole time, heads bent towards each other, exchanging whispers that I couldn't hear. 

When they were both finished adjusting their clothing, he brought his other leg to the same side of the bench that she was on and leaned down to get the champagne flute, handing it to Scully. She drank a bit, then held it to his mouth. Their eyes held as she gave him a sip, then moved the glass and leaned over to kiss him. He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, the other going to her waist and pulling her against his side. 

My head was whirling, and not from the leftover booze in my system. That was possibly the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and it made me yearn for that kind of love in my life as well. I don't recall ever having had that wonderful of a sexual experience, where it was more than just bodies slamming together, but souls entwined as well. 

As they broke the kiss I heard Scully laugh and say audibly, “I think we can go home now. Everyone probably thinks we've already left.”

“Yeah, we'll go around the side and not back through the hall,” Mulder agreed, letting go of her so she could stand up. “I'm glad we parked on the street and didn't use the valet parking.” They hadn't even mussed her hair; had I not actually seen what they were doing I wouldn't have a clue other than the bit of flush still visible on her chest and her lack of lipstick. 

Just then the arm I was resting on slipped out from under me and I fell into the undergrowth with a loud grunt. Realizing immediately that they must have heard that, I stayed where I fell and laid still, eyes closed. Sure enough, I heard:

“What was that?”

“I don't know, Scully, but it came from over there. Stay behind me while I check it out.”

“Behind you?!”

“You're wearing twenty grand worth of jewelry and you're not armed.”

“Oh. Okay, when you put it that way.”

I heard the bushes and then the undergrowth rusting, and finally: “Oh, shit, Scully, it's Skinner. He's passed out back here, drunk by the smell. You'd better come look at him.”

“Oh. My. God. Mulder. Do you think--”

“No, I'm sure he didn't see anything. Looks like he's been out for a while.”

I felt Scully's cool fingers on my neck, then her palm on my forehead. I moved a little, groaning again, opening my eyes a bit then letting them fall shut. Had I been on stage I'm sure I'd have been up for a Tony. 

“Yeah, I think you're right. Do you--”

At this point I figured I'd better move myself or they'd stand there all night discussing whether or not I'd seen or heard anything. “Whozat?” I mumbled, trying to sit up but letting my elbows fold under me before I could get all the way up. “Whozere?”

“Walter, it's Mulder and Scully. Can you hear me?” She patted my cheek none-too-gently.

I slowly opened my eyes and rolled them a little as I focused on her. “Scully. Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Where are we?”

Mulder came into my line of vision, crouching in front of me. “It looks like you passed out,” he said. “C'mon, I'll help you inside.”

“Uh-uh, not inside,” I said hoarsely, making sure to slur the words. “Just get me to a cab, I'll get home.”

They helped me sit up, Scully on my right, Mulder on my left. “I don't think so,” she said firmly. “We'll take you home.”

Together they managed to get me to my feet with little help from me; I continued the charade of being bonelessly drunk. When I was upright my head really did begin to spin and I wasn't acting when I just about knocked Mulder over when he tried to get my arm around his shoulders. As we began to work our way back to the cul-de-sac I kicked over my half-empty glass of club soda, and was relieved that neither of them saw it. It was a dead giveaway that I probably wasn't as drunk as I seemed.

They managed to get me to Mulder's car unseen by anyone at the reception, which was still going strong, and it was probably a good thing that they knew where I lived because I was so sleepy at that point that I could barely keep my eyes open. I wasn't faking when I could barely stay on my feet as they got me into my apartment, and I remembered next to nothing after that.

On Monday morning I was uneasy about seeing them, but we had a briefing on their new case at nine a.m. that I couldn't cancel. I decided to face them head-on, and as soon as they walked in the office I came around my desk and thanked them sincerely for their help on Saturday night as well as apologizing for my condition. They were both calm and comfortable, waving off my thanks, which made me relax. It was clear that neither of them suspected a thing, and I didn't comment on the thin white-gold band ringed with inset diamond chips that I noted on Scully's left ring finger.

After they left the office with the folder containing their new case, I about collapsed in my chair. I was sitting at my desk with my head in my hands when I heard a lock click and looked up to see Mulder's face grinning at me from the partially open door. “Kimberly and Scully went to the ladies' room, and I wanted to take this chance to say thanks for not letting Scully know that you were, uh, conscious on Saturday night,” he said. “If she knew I'd never get her to do anything like that again.”

“What do you mean?” I blustered. Oh, shit!

“It obviously didn't occur to you that if you could see us, we—or I, in this case—could see you.” He grinned even wider if that was possible. “I didn't see you until we were almost finished. At that point the damage was done, and I wasn't about to stop.” He winked at me, the cheeky bastard, and then the door closed. I suddenly remembered how he'd kissed up and down Scully's arm—I had noted the pause and now I knew why.

If Kimberly heard my hysterical laughter that day she never let on, nor did I to Scully regarding what I had seen. And if Mulder occasionally winked at me, well, I just winked back.

finis


End file.
